


All Flashes Away

by rinismydreamwaifu



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Awkward comforting, Bones tries, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Scotty's only in this for like 2 lines, So much angst, Some Fluff, Star Trek: Into Darkness, Star Trek: Into Darkness Spoilers, even though they have vaguely correlating titles, not affiliated with too like the lightning, warp core featuring: gay telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6818899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinismydreamwaifu/pseuds/rinismydreamwaifu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small oneshots covering the end of Into Darkness. Established relationship spirk</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> lmao I mentally planned this fic instead of focusing during my Biology AP test. Enjoy the pain. See the end for notes on the title.

“Shields restored!”

“Commander, power online.”

“Mr. Spock, altitude stabilizing.”

“It's a miracle!” 

“There are no such thing”, Spock murmurs, suddenly uneasy. He turns his attention inward, lowering the mental shields he had placed upon their bond in order to focus on the imminent danger. He touched Jim's mind through their link, and froze. Terror, resignation, and _pain_ , so much pain flowed along the mental cord that made up their connection. A cord that was slowly beginning to fray.

Mr. Scott's voice rang out over the newly restored comms. “Mr. Spock. Sir, you'd better get down here. Better hurry.”

The bridge crew fell silent, and Spock began to run.

……………………………………….

Spock reached engineering in record time, his earlier unease transformed into full blown panic. He followed Mr. Scott’s line of sight until it fell on the door to the warp core. _Jim_.

His bondmate, his _t’hy’la_ , the better part of himself, was locked behind it. Jim was dragging himself out of the main chamber, keying in the command to begin close the door and begin decontamination, before slumping in and exhausted heap against the glass.

“Open it," Spock commanded, trying and failing to keep tremors of desperation out of his voice.

“The decontamination process is no’ complete. You’d flood the whole compartment. The door’s locked, sir.”

Unable to respond, Spock stumbled over to the glass barrier and fell to his knees. Jim looked terrible, his skin was covered in burns, he shook violently, and the whites of his captivating eyes were bloodshot. He could feel the agony plaguing Jim through the ragged ends of their link.

But Jim summoned a smile for Spock, all the same.

The captain spoke, his voice muted through the glass. “How’s our ship?”

“Out of danger. You saved the crew.”

Jim wheezed a laugh. “You used what he wanted against him. That’s a nice move.”

Spock struggled to speak around the lump in his throat. “It is what you would have done.”

“And this, this is what you would have done. It was only logical.”

Spock clung desperately to their bond as it continued to slowly disintegrate. He cradled his bondmate mentally, as he yearned to physically.

_This cannot be logical, Jim. Logic offers order, it offers serenity. T’hy’la, if this is logic, I do not want it._

_I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You know I had to, Spock._

_I know._

“You know why I couldn’t let you die, right?”, Jim rasps. “Why I went back for you?”

The bond was unravelling faster now, Jim’s voice and presence growing fainter.

_Because you love me._

_I do. I couldn’t let you go. _

_ Taluhk nash-veh k’dular, Jim. I love you, I cherish thee. Please. _

Their once strong connection is now only a thread. Jim’s voice is only a whisper in the back of his mind now.

_………………….we should have had more time._

Jim struggles, raising his arm shakily, to press his index and middle fingers to the glass. Spock returns the kiss, fingers pressing against smooth and cold glass rather than the warm callouses of his bondmate’s fingers. Tears stream steadily down Spock’s face, but he cannot focus on that now, not when this is the last time he will ever see Jim’s chest rise and fall, the last time he will ever see Jim’s eyes filled with life.

But the eyes dull, the hand falls away. And the thread finally snaps.

Spock screams at the sensation, the ragged, gaping hole in his mind feels like too much to bear. All he knows is the void in his head, the sense of _loss_ , and Spock marvels that he has not been crushed beneath it. Can he truly lose this much and survive?

Jim was right, there should have been more time. There were supposed to be decades, exploring galaxies and seeking new knowledge. Spock was supposed to have time to watch Jim’s hair turn to gray, to map his scars, to learn and relearn him throughout their years together. Spock crumbles under the weight of what is gone.

He rises, filled with seething determination. Khan did this, Khan took away everything that they had built together, and everything they could be.

And he would pay for it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few awesome people asked me for a sequel chapter where Jim wakes up in the hospital, and one is coming, but I couldn't get this idea out of my head, so suprise. Awkward Spock and Bones bonding time. It makes me sad that they're not as close in Into Darkness as they are in the original series. So you have awkward stilted comforting (I'm imagining shoulder pats and 'there there).

Spock sat next to his bondmate’s bed in Starfleet Medical, watching his chest rise and fall. Jim had received the transfusion from Khan 6.2 hours ago, and was breathing with the assistance of a ventilator. Spock had ascertained Jim’s condition. It was illogical for him to stay, not when he would most likely be needed elsewhere in the aftermath of the disaster. And yet, he could not bring himself to leave. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, and an exhausted Dr. McCoy entered the room. He immediately went over to Jim’s bed, running a medical tricorder over the captain’s prone form and adjusting the machinery around him. Spock watched him silently, until Dr. McCoy turned around to face him. He ran his eyes over Spock and scowled. 

Not prepared to face one of the doctor’s usual tirades, Spock spoke first. “How is the captain?”

“I told you that I’d update you on any changes, and there aren’t any. Now when were you plannin’ on telling me about your damn hands?”

Spock looked down at his hands, and concealed the shock that he felt. His knuckles were swollen to an estimated 1.27 times their usual size, scraped raw and covered in dark green bruising. He could no longer move three of his fingers. 

“I had not noticed.” And he had not, too lost in the the void in his head, the void where Jim used to reside, bright and warm in the back of his mind. The broken marital bond was like a festering wound, a few broken fingers could not compare. 

The doctor sighed. “Damnit, Spock”, McCoy said, pulling a medical kit off of the wall. “Let me have a look at them.”

“In light of recent events, I believe there are others who are in more need of your attention, doctor.”

“Shut up and don’t argue with me, hobgoblin, it’s been a long day.” 

The doctor was quiet as he pressed a hypospray into Spock’s neck, he set the broken fingers with practiced efficiency, and immediately began repairing the swollen and damaged tissue on the back of his hands. 

McCoy spoke over the low hum of the dermal regenerator. “Spock. I wanted to say thanks. For going after Khan. For dragging that son of a bitch back here.”

Spock swallowed and looked down at his abused hands, unable to meet the eyes of Jim’s best friend. “I wanted to kill him,” he confessed, “I wanted nothing else after taking my bondmate from me. And in doing so, I would have killed Jim again.”

“But you didn’t. You didn’t and now he has a chance. Quit beatin’ yourself up about it.” 

McCoy finished with his hands and stood. “The fingers you broke will be stiff for a few days. Go easy on them. What to do about the bond is out of my depth, but I can give you the name of a Vulcan healer if you need someone to work their voodoo on you.” 

Spock elected to ignore the ‘voodoo’ comment. “A healer will not be necessary, unless…”, Spock trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence. He struggled to school his emotions, he should have more control than this. 

McCoy grimaced and gave a small nod. “Suit yourself. But the offer stands.” 

He moved towards the door, presumably to go attend to more critical patients, but stopped and turned to face Spock again. 

“He’ll be back to his irritating self in no time,” he said, seemingly trying to convince himself as much as Spock. “That is, if I don’t kill him again for this damn fool stunt first. But take care of yourself. He’ll be pissed when he wakes up if you don’t.” With that, he turned and left the room. 

Spock turned his attention back to his bondmate, taking Jim’s hand in his own. The broken link burned at the contact, seeking to reform, but could not without a full meld. Spock pondered the doctor’s words. They were somehow comforting. 

Jim would recover, he would not consider any other alternative. And Spock would be there when he did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long, I had some major issues with this one for some reason? Idk. I owe Kayci so much for reading countless drafts and listening to me bitch about how awful said drafts were. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

Spock was there when Jim gasped awake, one of the human’s hands clasped between both of his own. Relief rushed through Spock with the force of a tidal wave. Although Doctor McCoy had repeatedly assured him that Jim would recover, illogical doubts lingered in the back of his mind.

“ _Jim_ ”, Spock breathed, allowing every ounce of joy he felt to resonate in his tone. Spock had seen the red sunrise over Mount Seleya, he had seen the pale rings of Andor. He had seen burning stars and ancient ruins, the wonders of countless star systems. But he was confident he had never seen anything as beautiful or awe-inspiring the spark of life in his bondmate’s eyes, a spark he thought he would never again glimpse.

“Hi, Spock,” Jim replied, his voice rough with disuse. He gave Spock a tired, but elated grin.

“Out of the way, hobgoblin, you two can eyefuck later.”

Spock reluctantly pulled his hand free of Jim’s and took a few steps away as Doctor McCoy burst in from the hallway, holding several hyposprays.

“If you ever, and I do mean _ever_ , pull some fool stunt like this ever again, I’ll jab you with something that with make the Melvarian mud flea vaccine seem like a fucking vitamin shot.”

Despite the doctor’s characteristic and venomous diatribe, his actions reflected the true depth of his feelings. His hands were gentle as he shot Jim with various medications, while he explained to Jim what had happened and how he had survived, peppered with his usual colorful metaphors. He carefully drew a vial of blood out of Jim’s arm, lightly rubbing his thumb over the injection site after he carefully removed the needle.

Jim, along with Spock, was not fooled by McCoy’s censure. “I love you too, Bones.” he cooed, with a knowing smirk.

The doctor turned slightly pink. “Yeah, yeah. Back at you, and stuff.” He cleared his throat. “I’m going to run some tests on your blood sample. Be good.” McCoy rounded on Spock. “And you, don’t mess him up while I’m gone, he’s a pain in the ass to put back together.”

McCoy was out the door before Spock could formulate a response, miffed that the doctor would insinuate that he would cause any damage to his healing bondmate.

But none of that mattered now, because Jim was warm and alive and reaching for him, and Spock could no more resist the pull of that embrace than the earth could resist the pull of the sun.

Spock sat on the edge of Jim’s bed, and pulled him into his arms. Jim’s hands clutched at Spock’s back, as Spock buried his face in the juncture of Jim’s neck and shoulder, breathing in his scent. He felt himself shaking against his bondmate’s body and gave up on any kind of emotional control, allowing the tears pooling in his eyes to silently fall against human skin. He had never been adept at controlling his feelings where Jim was concerned, anyway.

“I can’t feel you anymore,” Jim whispered, moving his hand up to cradle the base of the vulcan’s skull.

“The bond broke when you...died,” Spock murmured into Jim’s neck. “How do we fix it?” Spock pulled slightly back and placed his hand on Jim’s face, expertly positioned over his psi-points. He drew closer, silently waiting for permission.

“Do it, Spock.”

“My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts”

And then there was light, there was color, and Spock was home. Their link began to reform, the raw and tattered ends of it weaving back together, even stronger than before. He focused on soothing away the pain from the broken bond from Jim’s mind, and felt him grabbing on to pull their minds closer.

 _Parted from me, and never parted_ , Spock whispered through their reformed link. He tried desperately to keep their parting out of his thoughts, the feel of glass under his hands instead of warm human skin.

 _Never and always touching and touched_ , Jim responded softly.

_You were parted from me, t’hy’la. I could not touch you._

_You can touch me now._

Spock pulled them out of the meld to do just that, taking heart in his link to Jim’s mind resting warmly in the back of Jim’s mind, and wrapped him in his arms again.

“And I am immeasurably grateful.”

They stayed silent for a moment, each basking in the presence of the other.

Jim whispered softly into a pointed ear, “I’m sorry I put you through that.”

He pulled back far enough in order to look Jim in the eyes. Words from that day flashed through Spock’s mind: _You know I had to_. Spock did know. He had to because he was Jim, and he could never remain idle when there was something he could do, whatever the costs to himself. He had to because he could never forgive himself the demise of the ship he loved, could never forgive himself the loss of Spock, or McCoy, or the crew he considered a family. He had to because he did not believe in a no-win scenario, and to him, their continued existence was a win, even at the cost of his own.

He reached out and cupped Jim’s face, brushing a thumb tenderly across his cheekbone.

“There is nothing to forgive.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from A Tale of Two Cities, from the scene where Sydney Carton is executed. The full quote: "The murmuring of many voices, the upturning of many faces, the pressing on of many footsteps in the outskirts of the crowd, so that it swells forward in a mass, like one great heave of water, all flashes away."
> 
> I'm also on tumblr at loud-obnoxious-lesbian if anyone is interested


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